charmides and other-第6部分

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Shall　see　them　bodily？　　O　it　were　meet

To　roll　the　stone　from　off　the　sepulchre

And　kiss　the　bleeding　roses　of　their　wounds；　in　love　of　her；



Our　Italy！　our　mother　visible！

Most　blessed　among　nations　and　most　sad；

For　whose　dear　sake　the　young　Calabrian　fell

That　day　at　Aspromonte　and　was　glad

That　in　an　age　when　God　was　bought　and　sold

One　man　could　die　for　Liberty！　but　we；　burnt　out　and　cold；



See　Honour　smitten　on　the　cheek　and　gyves

Bind　the　sweet　feet　of　Mercy：　　Poverty

Creeps　through　our　sunless　lanes　and　with　sharp　knives

Cuts　the　warm　throats　of　children　stealthily；

And　no　word　said：…　O　we　are　wretched　men

Unworthy　of　our　great　inheritance！　where　is　the　pen



Of　austere　Milton？　where　the　mighty　sword

Which　slew　its　master　righteously？　the　years

Have　lost　their　ancient　leader；　and　no　word

Breaks　from　the　voiceless　tripod　on　our　ears：

While　as　a　ruined　mother　in　some　spasm

Bears　a　base　child　and　loathes　it；　so　our　best　enthusiasm



Genders　unlawful　children；　Anarchy

Freedom's　own　Judas；　the　vile　prodigal

Licence　who　steals　the　gold　of　Liberty

And　yet　has　nothing；　Ignorance　the　real

One　Fraticide　since　Cain；　Envy　the　asp

That　stings　itself　to　anguish；　Avarice　whose　palsied　grasp



Is　in　its　extent　stiffened；　moneyed　Greed

For　whose　dull　appetite　men　waste　away

Amid　the　whirr　of　wheels　and　are　the　seed

Of　things　which　slay　their　sower；　these　each　day

Sees　rife　in　England；　and　the　gentle　feet

Of　Beauty　tread　no　more　the　stones　of　each　unlovely　street。



What　even　Cromwell　spared　is　desecrated

By　weed　and　worm；　left　to　the　stormy　play

Of　wind　and　beating　snow；　or　renovated

By　more　destructful　hands：　　Time's　worst　decay

Will　wreathe　its　ruins　with　some　loveliness；

But　these　new　Vandals　can　but　make　a　rain…proof　barrenness。



Where　is　that　Art　which　bade　the　Angels　sing

Through　Lincoln's　lofty　choir；　till　the　air

Seems　from　such　marble　harmonies　to　ring

With　sweeter　song　than　common　lips　can　dare

To　draw　from　actual　reed？　ah！　where　is　now

The　cunning　hand　which　made　the　flowering　hawthorn　branches　bow



For　Southwell's　arch；　and　carved　the　House　of　One

Who　loved　the　lilies　of　the　field　with　all

Our　dearest　English　flowers？　the　same　sun

Rises　for　us：　　the　seasons　natural

Weave　the　same　tapestry　of　green　and　grey：

The　unchanged　hills　are　with　us：　　but　that　Spirit　hath　passed　away。



And　yet　perchance　it　may　be　better　so；

For　Tyranny　is　an　incestuous　Queen；

Murder　her　brother　is　her　bedfellow；

And　the　Plague　chambers　with　her：　　in　obscene

And　bloody　paths　her　treacherous　feet　are　set；

Better　the　empty　desert　and　a　soul　inviolate！



For　gentle　brotherhood；　the　harmony

Of　living　in　the　healthful　air；　the　swift

Clean　beauty　of　strong　limbs　when　men　are　free

And　women　chaste；　these　are　the　things　which　lift

Our　souls　up　more　than　even　Agnolo's

Gaunt　blinded　Sibyl　poring　o'er　the　scroll　of　human　woes；



Or　Titian's　little　maiden　on　the　stair

White　as　her　own　sweet　lily　and　as　tall；

Or　Mona　Lisa　smiling　through　her　hair；　…

Ah！　somehow　life　is　bigger　after　all

Than　any　painted　angel；　could　we　see

The　God　that　is　within　us！　　The　old　Greek　serenity



Which　curbs　the　passion　of　that　level　line

Of　marble　youths；　who　with　untroubled　eyes

And　chastened　limbs　ride　round　Athena's　shrine

And　mirror　her　divine　economies；

And　balanced　symmetry　of　what　in　man

Would　else　wage　ceaseless　warfare；　…　this　at　least　within　the　span



Between　our　mother's　kisses　and　the　grave

Might　so　inform　our　lives；　that　we　could　win

Such　mighty　empires　that　from　her　cave

Temptation　would　grow　hoarse；　and　pallid　Sin

Would　walk　ashamed　of　his　adulteries；

And　Passion　creep　from　out　the　House　of　Lust　with　startled　eyes。



To　make　the　body　and　the　spirit　one

With　all　right　things；　till　no　thing　live　in　vain

From　morn　to　noon；　but　in　sweet　unison

With　every　pulse　of　flesh　and　throb　of　brain

The　soul　in　flawless　essence　high　enthroned；

Against　all　outer　vain　attack　invincibly　bastioned；



Mark　with　serene　impartiality

The　strife　of　things；　and　yet　be　comforted；

Knowing　that　by　the　chain　causality

All　separate　existences　are　wed

Into　one　supreme　whole；　whose　utterance

Is　joy；　or　holier　praise！　ah！　surely　this　were　governance



Of　Life　in　most　august　omnipresence；

Through　which　the　rational　intellect　would　find

In　passion　its　expression；　and　mere　sense；

Ignoble　else；　lend　fire　to　the　mind；

And　being　joined　with　it　in　harmony

More　mystical　than　that　which　binds　the　stars　planetary；



Strike　from　their　several　tones　one　octave　chord

Whose　cadence　being　measureless　would　fly

Through　all　the　circling　spheres；　then　to　its　Lord

Return　refreshed　with　its　new　empery

And　more　exultant　power；　…　this　indeed

Could　we　but　reach　it　were　to　find　the　last；　the　perfect　creed。



Ah！　it　was　easy　when　the　world　was　young

To　keep　one's　life　free　and　inviolate；

From　our　sad　lips　another　song　is　rung；

By　our　own　hands　our　heads　are　desecrate；

Wanderers　in　drear　exile；　and　dispossessed

Of　what　should　be　our　own；　we　can　but　feed　on　wild　unrest。



Somehow　the　grace；　the　bloom　of　things　has　flown；

And　of　all　men　we　are　most　wretched　who

Must　live　each　other's　lives　and　not　our　own

For　very　pity's　sake　and　then　undo

All　that　we　lived　for　…　it　was　otherwise

When　soul　and　body　seemed　to　blend　in　mystic　symphonies。



But　we　have　left　those　gentle　haunts　to　pass

With　weary　feet　to　the　new　Calvary；

Where　we　behold；　as　one　who　in　a　glass

Sees　his　own　face；　self…slain　Humanity；

And　in　the　dumb　reproach　of　that　sad　gaze

Learn　what　an　awful　phantom　the　red　hand　of　man　can　raise。



O　smitten　mouth！　　O　forehead　crowned　with　thorn！

O　chalice　of　all　common　miseries！

Thou　for　our　sakes　that　loved　thee　not　hast　borne

An　agony　of　endless　centuries；

And　we　were　vain　and　ignorant　nor　knew

That　when　we　stabbed　thy　heart　it　was　our　own　real　hearts　we　slew。



Being　ourselves　the　sowers　and　the　seeds；

The　night　that　covers　and　the　lights　that　fade；

The　spear　that　pierces　and　the　side　that　bleeds；

The　lips　betraying　and　the　life　betrayed；

The　deep　hath　calm：　　the　moon　hath　rest：　　but　we

Lords　of　the　natural　world　are　yet　our　own　dread　enemy。



Is　this　the　end　of　all　that　primal　force

Which；　in　its　changes　being　still　the　same；

From　eyeless　Chaos　cleft　its　upward　course；

Through　ravenous　seas　and　whirling　rocks　and　flame；

Till　the　suns　met　in　heaven　and　began

Their　cycles；　and　the　morning　stars　sang；　and　the　Word　was　Man！



Nay；　nay；　we　are　but　crucified；　and　though

The　bloody　sweat　falls　from　our　brows　like　rain

Loosen　the　nails　…　we　shall　come　down　I　know；

Staunch　the　red　wounds　…　we　shall　be　whole　again；

No　need　have　we　of　hyssop…laden　rod；

That　which　is　purely　human；　that　is　godlike；　that　is　God。







LOUIS　NAPOLEON







Eagle　of　Austerlitz！　where　were　thy　wings

When　far　away　upon　a　barbarous　strand；

In　fight　unequal；　by　an　obscure　hand；

Fell　the　last　scion　of　thy　brood　of　Kings！



Poor　boy！　thou　shalt　not　flaunt　thy　cloak　of　red；

Or　ride　in　state　through　Paris　in　the　van

Of　thy　returning　legions；　but　instead

Thy　mother　France；　free　and　republican；



Shall　on　thy　dead　and　crownless　forehead　place

The　better　laurels　of　a　soldier's　crown；

That　not　dishonoured　should　thy　soul　go　down

To　tell　the　mighty　Sire　of　thy　race



That　France　hath　kissed　the　mouth　of　Liberty；

And　found　it　sweeter　than　his　honied　bees；

And　that　the　giant　wave　Democracy

Breaks　on　the　shores　where　Kings　lay　couched　at　ease。







ENDYMION　　（For　music）







The　apple　trees　are　hung　with　gold；

And　birds　are　loud　in　Arcady；

The　sheep　lie　bleating　in　the　fold；

The　wild　goat　runs　across　the　wold；

But　yesterday　his　love　he　told；

I　know　he　will　come　back　to　me。

O　rising　moon！　　O　Lady　moon！

Be　you　my　lover's　sentinel；

You　cannot　choose　but　know　him　well；

For　he　is　shod　with　purple　shoon；

You　cannot　choose　but　know　my　love；

For　he　a　shepherd's　crook　doth　bear；

And　he　is　soft　as　any　dove；

And　brown　and　curly　is　his　hair。



The　turtle　now　has　ceased　to　call

Upon　her　crimson…footed　groom；

The　grey　wolf　prowls　about　the　stall；

The　lily's　singing　seneschal

Sleeps　in　the　lily…bell；　and　all

The　violet　hills　are　lost　in　gloom。

O　risen　moon！　　O　holy　moon！

Stand　on　the　top　of　Helice；

And　if　my　own　true　love　you　see；

Ah！　if　you　see　the　purple　shoon；

The　hazel　crook；　the　lad's　brown　hair；

The　goat…skin　wrapped　about　his　arm；

Tell　him　that　I　am　waiting　where

The　rushlight　glimmers　in　the　Farm。



The　falling　dew　is　cold　and　chill；

And　no　bird　sings　in　Arcady；

The　little　fauns　have　left　the　hill；

Even　the　tired　daffodil

Has　closed　its　gilded　doors；　and　still

My　lover　comes　not　back　to　me。

False　moon！　　False　moon！　　O　waning　moon！

Where　is　my　own　true　lover　gone；

Where　are　the　lips　vermilion；

The　shepherd's　crook；　the　purple　shoon？

Why　spread　that　silver　pavilion；

Why　wear　that　veil　of　drifting　mist？

Ah！　thou　hast　young　Endymion

Thou　hast　the　lips　that　should　be　kissed！







LE　JARDIN







The　lily's　withered　chalice　falls

Around　its　rod　of　dusty　gold；

And　from　the　beech…trees　on　the　wold

The　last　wood…pigeon　coos　and　calls。



The　gaudy　leonine　sunflower

Hangs　black　and　barren　on　its　stalk；

And　down　the　windy　garden　walk

The　dead　leaves　scatter；　…　hour　by　hour。



Pale　privet…petals　white　as　milk

Are　blown　into　a　snowy　mass：

The　roses　lie　upon　the　grass

Like　little　shreds　of　crimson　silk。







LA　MER







A　white　mist　drifts　across　the　shrouds；

A　wild　moon　in　this　wintry　sky

Gleams　like　an　angry　lion's　eye

Out　of　a　mane　of　tawny　clouds。



The　muffled　steersman　at　the　wheel

Is　but　a　shadow　in　the　gloom；　…

And　in　the　throbbing　engine…room

Leap　the　long　rods　of　polished　steel。



The　shattered　storm　has　lef